


The Ghost Of You

by PepperPrince



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, but then it gets better, i know this episode came out forever ago but whatever, i like immediate resolution instead of waiting through angst because I’m impatient, it’s 3am, it’s sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24319486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperPrince/pseuds/PepperPrince
Summary: After letting Castiel leave, Dean can’t get him off his mind.Tag to 15x03
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	The Ghost Of You

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I had after this episode came out but I, as usual, never finished it after the first couple paragraphs. But I was in the mood for something bittersweet so I got to work on writing the rest. Of course I didn’t proof read this as much as I should have, so forgive me for any mistakes.

Dean dropped his head upon walking inside his room. His coat feeling heavier than usual, he shimmied out of his clothes and stripped himself down to a shirt and boxers before retiring himself to sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands gripped the sheets while his gaze stayed fixed on the floor. A million things ran through his head at that moment, and the next moment. All of them had to do with Cas.

The name sounded distant in his ears, like he wasn’t allowed to say it. A dumb thought, considering there was nothing wrong. Well, there was something wrong, he’d just kicked his best friend out of his only home. Their home. There was no reason other than his own convoluted self pity, a sad attempt to pin his anger onto someone rather than admitting he was wrong.

He should have stopped him. He wanted to stop him. And yet, he had stood there against the table and watched him walk out, his lack of action both from a shocked response and a hopeless thought that Cas would turn around and come back to him at some moment, a moment that he realized would never come.

It wasn’t like he blamed him. He had been pretty shitty lately, anyone would have assumed Dean would be better off without the angel there. He shivered at the idea that that’s what Cas thought, that he didn’t want him there. That they were better off separated. That there wasn’t a solution to a situation that didn’t even have an underlying problem. The thought of his actions giving off that feeling to anyone outside of his thought process made his mind spin further into a self indulged darkness.

Dean felt himself lean back against the mattress, no energy left to pull the covers over himself. He stared at the ceiling for a long while, drifting off with the hope that he wouldn’t wake up alone.

* * *

Dean deduced that, If dreams were a palace with an optional exit, he would never leave.

It started with a gasp that brought him upwards in his bed, the heaving breaths he took forcing him back to reality. Not a moment later he spotted him, the figure standing in the opening to his bedroom.

Dean knew how to tell a dream from reality in the simple details. After a while of having to force himself awake during night terrors it became an absentminded knowledge. And with that, he remembered he had closed the door behind him when he went to bed that night, so he knew this wasn’t real.

But god damn, if Castiel’s soothing hand suddenly running fingers up Dean’s leg as he edged closer to the head of the bed didn’t feel so real then he probably would have made himself wake up before something went downhill.

There was no pause though. No wake up call, no sudden red flag going off in his half conscious brain at the moment telling him that tragedy would strike soon, as is what happens with most of his ‘good’ dreams lately. Only the angel’s soft stare down at the hunter in the bed, a gaze that sent him into tranquility and relaxed any tense muscles in him in that moment.

Cas kept his eyes fixated on Dean, blue slits giving off the cool color of an ocean’s tide fading into the depths of the blue sea. With all the same power those eyes had to be threatening and cold they somehow managed to also be the most comforting thing Dean had ever seen. And with that, he felt his hand curling around Cas’s.

It suddenly felt like the man’s coat had disappeared, as he leaned over Dean in a dominating way, a way that gave Dean some sort of comfort that he’d never admit. He never liked feeling small, but this was different. He had someone else in control for once, and that felt… nice.

The angel’s hand continued to intertwine with Dean’s, with the other strong palm coming up to engulf the side of Dean’s face, the roughness of his fingers somehow portraying so much comfort that the hunter couldn’t help but lean into it. His green eyes trailed all the way up from Castiel’s tie back to the peaceful expression staring back at him. And with that, he leaned forward, as if on command when Cas copied the movement and soon had Dean in a warm full body embrace.

After some fumbling and clothes being tossed away for comfort, Dean returned under the sheets of his bed much more content than he did when he’d initially gone to bed. 

Castiel wrapped his arms around him, the hunter’s back pressing into his chest while his shoulder held the comfort of Cas’s head as he rested it there. No words were spoken, no further glances shared. Dean’s hands remained gripped the arms wrapped safely around him, clinging to them like he was afraid they’d disappear again.

Dean felt something rise in his chest. Beside the feeling his pacing heart rushed throughout his body throughout this interaction, he felt words he needed to say still. Things to clear up, resolutions to make, rights to the wrongs. No matter what he thought, though, he couldn’t open his mouth. And in the end, he realized that’s what got him here in the first place.

He should have stopped him. He should have grabbed him by the shoulder, yanked him back around to tell him he was sorry, told him it wasn’t his fault. He should have told him he was forgiven. He should have given him the hug he knew he was waiting for, the embrace he knew they both wanted, or at least he hoped Cas did. What stopped him?

Nothing. Nothing stopped him, and nothing stopped Cas.

Dean didn’t notice until he felt the arms around him shift, but tears were now rolling down his cheeks, dampening the white pillows. Cas leaned in closer, quietly shushing him with his rough voice. That sound, it calmed him, almost enough to fall asleep.

Dean couldn’t fall asleep. No, what if he lost this? All he wanted at this moment was to sit here forever, never having to face confrontation or a judgement for some sort of self inflicted pain that he got himself into and would eventually have to fix himself. With Castiel laying with him at that moment, he already felt like everything was okay. His fear clustered around in his head, blurring out the previously euphoric feelings that were pushing through his body, the fear that he would wake up the next morning. And worse, that he’d be alone.

It wasn’t long before everything started to darken anyway, any thoughts he was focusing on becoming hard to read and before he knew it, he was tumbling into darkness.

* * *

He didn’t shoot up in his bed when he woke up. He knew what he’d be greeted with if he did, and it was nothing. He sat up gently without the warmth he’d imagined last night. Rubbing his eyes, he sat there for a good few moments before lifting his head up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted him. It was the figure he’d seen last night, except something coherent in him told him that this time, it wasn’t a falsely hoped dream.

There was enough light in the hallway to make out his face once Dean quit rubbing his eyes, and those two spots of ocean blue stared back at him.

He stepped forward, and this time Dean was awake enough to stand as soon as he did. As it usually was with them, Cas stopped just far enough for there to be a few inches separating their faces. The five O’ clock shadow and baggy eyes were no different than in his dream, which didn’t make it any less real.

Dean opened his mouth before Cas spoke, not even able to get out a single word from the billions that he was ready to say. Instead, Cas spoke first, and it was as short as it was meaningful. “I heard your prayer.”

That was all Dean needed to hear. This time, it was him who caught the angel in a hug.

Dean closed his eyes. Maybe tonight, he wouldn’t have to dream.

**Author's Note:**

> This was pretty short but I didn’t want to drag it, considering this was mostly written for my own personal satisfaction of having them resolve everything as soon as possible. Too much angst for me with these two. But anyway, hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
